I hold the razor to my wrist, as the tears come rolling down. then i laugh to myself thinking do i really want to go through with this? it's just been so tough, i don't know why people push me around all the time. they act like I'm not there, like i don't matter at all. and still i try to please each and every one. i do what they ask everyday but it just seems like they're using me to get their way.
